


Twin Skeleton's

by fnowae



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Paranormal Investigators AU, ghost au, hope you like this shit, it's a weird one though, the character death warning's a fluke he comes back, this is. fuckin wild.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:18:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fnowae/pseuds/fnowae
Summary: He straightens up and tries to calm his nerves, and answers as professionally as he can manage, "I'm Joe. That's Pete. We're...paranormal investigators?"





	Twin Skeleton's

**Author's Note:**

> ahah ahah why do I do this. 
> 
> this shit is weird but?? funny so have fun. 
> 
> don't know why I keep writing for this ship. I totally don't ship it. at all. shush. 
> 
> but lmao. Enjoy

It is a dark, moonless but starry night with a slight warm breeze that washes over everything when Joe turns to his closest friend, sitting next to him under a towering oak tree, and says, "I can see ghosts."

Pete is mostly unfazed by this, through some combination of the alcohol he has consumed tonight, his general disregard for strange things, and the fact that he doesn't believe it, which Joe knows because Pete's immediate response is a heavily dismissive, "Yeah, sure you can."

"Really," Joe insists. He blames his own fair amount of alcohol consumption for the fact he's bringing this up at all; he had filed it away under his list of Things I Am Never Going To Tell Anyone, right next to his sexuality and his series of weird repeating dreams about getting jumped by a team of bodybuilder clowns driving a fire truck. 

"Mhm," Pete mumbles, staring up at the sky and rolling his eyes. 

"I can," Joe says again, but with less insistence. He isn't sure why he's so desperate to tell Pete this, but he feels like, for some unknown reason, he has to. 

"Alright, fine. Let's say you can." Pete obviously still doesn't believe it, but he's decided to play along. He turns to Joe with his eyebrow raised. "Why are you telling me?"

"Don't know." Joe shrugs, and ignores it when the rough bark of the tree he's leaning against rubs slightly painfully against his skin. "Just thought I should."

"Mhm." Pete is still skeptical, and possibly very amused. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

Joe snorts, deciding this may be the funniest thing he's ever been asked. "Can't do much about it." With a nostalgic sigh, he continues, "When I was little I wanted to have a team of paranormal investigators or something and I always thought I would find other people who were like me and we would fight off mean ghosts together." He laughs bitterly. "Never happened."

"That's great, Joe," Pete mutters with a sigh, turning back to the sky. Joe is beyond caring that Pete believes none of this. 

"Mhm," he agrees, watching the sky as well. The stars seem to glow brighter, like they're trying to show him something he should be paying attention to. 

Neither of them will remember this - or at least, all the details of this - in the morning. 

It is a moonlit night, two weeks later, when under the half moon and the familiar leaves of the oak tree Joe spills another one of his Unsayable Things to Pete, and this time Pete doesn't question him for one second. 

It is this same moonlit night when Pete grabs Joe by the shoulder and kisses him, and the moon is shining down on them as Joe kisses back. 

It is a full moon, two more weeks later, when Joe's phone rings at ass o'clock in the morning, which would usually mean it's Pete but this time it's not, and it is a full moon when he hears the voice on the other end say that there's been an accident and they haven't identified the victim yet but Joe was the first number in his contacts, so could he please come and see if he could tell them who it was?

Joe doesn't need to go to know it's Pete. He goes anyway. 

It's the next day, not night, when Pete dies in the hospital as a result of being hit by a drunk driver on the highway. Being daytime after a full moon, there is no moon. Something about that feels like a promise to Joe. He holds onto it. 

Against all odds, Joe is not upset. He is not horrified or crying or hurt. This is probably because he knows better than anyone that chances are Pete is not gone for good; he wasn't lying, that moonless night under the oak tree. He knows that there's life and then death and then sometimes people stick around after that. He hopes more than anything that Pete is one of those people. 

He makes sure to show up to Pete's funeral, not because Pete was/is (the distinction is confusing, given that he cannot yet know whether or not Pete is truly gone) his boyfriend, but because he knows that if there's one place that's most likely for a ghost to turn up, it's their own funeral. He's made an occasional habit of showing up to a stranger's funeral to see if the deceased's spirit appears there. Oftentimes, they show up. He has a theory that it's because someone who has just realized they're dead has a morbid curiosity about what their funeral looks like. He doesn't blame them. He would do the same in that situation. 

The funeral is, like most funerals, miserable. Family members and friends are crying everywhere, and Joe puts out a few fake tears so he doesn't look like a complete asshole. How could he possibly explain that he wasn't upset because he was still fairly sure Pete wasn't gone?

Pete makes no appearance for most of the funeral, but Joe doesn't lose hope. He has a gut feeling that Pete will show. 

His gut feeling is confirmed when he sneaks a glance towards the back of the room at one point and spots Pete, leaning against the back wall and looking some mix of confused, curious, and terrified. 

Joe tells he person sitting next to him (Pete's mother) that he's going to the bathroom. Through tears, she nods and tells him that if he needs to leave, he doesn't need to make up an excuse to. He thanks her and leaves before she can start on how she knows how much Pete meant to him, etcetera etcetera. He knows she was going to. That's how mourning people work. 

He makes his way to the back of the room casually, as if he's really going to leave. When he reaches the back wall, he nonchalantly leans against it like he's just hanging out here. He's only three feet away from Pete, who is still watching the proceedings with mild horror. 

Joe looks down to his hand and starts picking at his nails, trying to look like he's just bored. Pete hasn't even noticed that he's walked back here yet. 

He decides to break the silence. "I hate funerals."

"Me too," Pete answers, as if automatically. Then he freezes. "Wait."

"Yes, I'm talking to you. Yes, I can see you." Joe is being as quiet as possible in order to not look like he's talking to himself, but someone in the back row still notices and gives him a weird look. 

Pete stares at him, gaping. "That night under the tree-"

"I wasn't kidding," Joe interrupts with a nod. 

"Holy shit." Pete turns to face the front again, shell-shocked. 

"Wanna get out of here?" Joe asks. The same person in the back row turns around and looks at him like he's crazy, which he probably deserves. 

Pete laughs. "You're asking me to ditch my own funeral to hang out with you?"

"Yep." Joe nods. 

"That is the most you thing ever." Pete grins. "I'm in."

No one notices when Joe leaves, and obviously no one sees Pete leave either. They stroll out of the front of the church the funeral was being held in together, and walk three blocks away before either of them says anything. 

Pete is the one to speak first. "Wow."

"Yeah," Joe agrees. He's grinning. As much as he'd acted certain that Pete would be back, he hadn't really been sure, and he's honestly relieved that Pete is actually here right now. 

"Wanna go to the tree?" Pete suggests, cocking his head in question. 

"Yeah," Joe replies. "That sounds great."

The tree is actually only a short distance from where they had been, so they get there in a couple minutes. Joe happily takes a seat underneath it, and Pete joins him. For a while, they just sit there in comfortable silence. Then Pete grins and turns to Joe. 

"Hey, Joe," he says. "I just had the best idea."

"Mhm?" Joe asks, turning to look Pete in the eye. 

"Remember that night you told me about...about this? And I didn't believe you?" Pete begins. "And you said when you were a kid you wanted to start some kind of paranormal investigation agency?"

"Yes?" Joe responds, raising an eyebrow. 

"Joe. We should _totally_ do that."

Joe has never heard a better suggestion in his life. 

///

It's a bit of a rocky start - at first they want to put both their names in the investigation's name (the first concept is Trohman-Wentz Paranormal Investigation Services), but seeing as anyone who would hire a paranormal investigation service probably wouldn't be able to see Pete in the first place, it would be hard to explain the two names. After a few more failed ideas ("No, Pete, we can't use Ghostbusters. That's trademarked and shit. And besides, you're a fucking ghost!"), they settle on a final (though still experimental) name - Twin Skeleton's Paranormal Investigation Agency. The joke is, it's meant to be skeletons, plural, meaning two people, but since their clients would have to believe only one person is running the show, the apostrophe makes it out to mean ownership instead. It's genius - at least Joe thinks it is. Pete still adamantly wants to be Ghostbusters. 

Unfortunately, the unforeseen issue with this idea is that most people tend to not believe a "paranormal investigation" business is legitimate. Even though they've put an unreasonable amount of online promotion into it, the most they've gotten is a couple prank messages, one of which read, word for word, "exorcise my penis". Yeah, it's not going well. 

So Joe has a brilliant idea, and here's what it is - all they have to do is do one serious job, for credibility, and then maybe people will be more inclined to believe that their business is real. The only problem is, they can't do one serious job without any offers. 

That problem is solved when they get their first serious message, sent to the email they'd set up for the business. It reads as follows:

_Hi,_

_My family is moving out of our current house, and we found one we really like, except there's one problem. It's a little bit haunted. By a demon. I'm pretty sure he tried to attack us when we were visiting the house - at least, he yelled a lot. I'm kind of scared. My family badly wants the house, but we can't have it in the current situation. If you could just visit the place and try to get the demon out, I'd really appreciate it._

_Thank you,  
Wayne_

The client - Wayne - had left an attachment containing the address of the house and a photo of it. It really does look like a nice house. Joe understands why someone would be willing to try and hire someone if there was a demon in it. It doesn't look like the typical haunted house - it's rather modern, and painted bright green with yellow trim. But this email is obviously serious, and Joe intends to at least try to help. 

"Pete!" he calls out from his couch. "We got one!"

"Really?" Pete's head pokes through the wall of the living room. He'd discovered the stereotypical ghost ability of walking through walls the other week, and he's been abusing it ever since. 

"Yeah!" Joe answers, gesturing for Pete to come and look at the email. 

Pete comes the rest of the way into the living room and walks over to the couch, reading the email over Joe's shoulder. 

"Holy shit," he says, beaming. "We actually got one!"

"Should I tell him we'll check it out later today?" Joe asks, even though he already knows Pete's answer will be yes. 

Predictably, Pete nods excitedly. "Yes! This is great!"

Joe nods and turns back to his computer, typing out a response. 

_Wayne,_

_I'd be happy to check out the house today. That sounds like a nasty problem, and I'll do my best to help fix it._

_Thank you for your business,  
Joe_

He almost wrote "we'd be happy to check it the house today", but had edited it when he remembered the client most likely wouldn't be able to see Pete at all. He keeps forgetting. It had been easy to remember his ability was unique when he would only catch fleeting glimpses of unfamiliar spirits, but now that he's literally living with his dead boyfriend who he'd known in life, he sometimes forgets that most people can't see him. 

He sends the email and closes the laptop. "Should we go now?"

"Sure!" Pete nods enthusiastically. "That's a good idea."

The house actually turns out to be within walking distance of their apartment, so they go there on foot, bubbling with the excitement of their first real job. 

They get there in ten minutes. The house looks just as unhaunted as it had in the photo. It's bright and colorful and new and exactly the opposite of every haunted house ever. 

The front door has a note pinned to it that reads,

_If you're here on the job, thank you. I left the door unlocked. I appreciate this._

Joe smiles and takes the note down, crumpling it and stuffing it in his pocket. As promised, the door opens when he turns the knob, and he steps into the entry hall of the house. Pete makes a point of following him in through the wall. It's just as bright and nice on the inside as it was on the outside, and Joe starts to doubt it's actually housing a demon. 

At least, he doubts it up to the point where a voice echoes throughout the hall, yelling, "For fuck's sake, _get out of my house_!"

Joe jumps and turns towards the door, and he's suddenly face to face with a guy who definitely hadn't been there before. The new arrival is considerably short, angry, and, mostly judging by his glowing red eyes and tiny, sharp horns poking through his hair, probably the demon. 

"Well, you're not that guy who keeps trying to come in," the demon comments, frowning and crossing his arms. "Who the hell are you?"

"Uh," Joe says weakly, not sure how to respond. He straightens up and tries to calm his nerves, and answers as professionally as he can manage, "I'm Joe. That's Pete. We're...paranormal investigators?" It sounds kind of dumb and weak when he says it now. 

"Paranormal investigators?" The demon actually laughs. He jabs a thumb at Pete and asks, "You do know he's dead, right?"

"I am aware, yes," Joe answers through clenched teeth. So, okay, this is not how he imagined their first job going. 

"So you're a 'paranormal investigation team'," the demon puts air quotes around "paranormal investigation team", "and one of your members is...literally a ghost."

"That would be correct," Joe answers, unable to keep frustration out of his voice. 

"Well, that's a new one." The demon laughs again. "Who sent you here, anyway? Was it...what's his name again? Wyatt?"

"His name is Wayne," Pete interjects. 

"Yeah, yeah, sure." The demon shrugs. "I don't care. He shouldn't be coming into my house. He doesn't need a paranormal investigation team to tell him that."

" _Your_ house?" Joe asks incredulously. "You own this place?"

"I didn't say I owned it," the demon responds, frowning. "I said it's mine. I liked it when they built it, so I decided it was mine."

"You can just do that?" Pete asks.

"Don't get any ideas," Joe mutters, giving Pete a warning look. 

"Of course I can just do that," the demon proclaims with certainty. "I'm a fucking demon. Why not?"

"Maybe because...it's not actually your house?" Joe replies carefully. 

The demon's eyes flare brighter for a second and Joe swears his hand catches on fire for a moment. "But it is."

"Maybe you could just...leave?" Pete suggests, offering an attempt at a friendly grin. 

The demon huffs. "If you guys could find me a house as cool as this one, I would leave. But you can't. This house is the fucking coolest house."

"Uh." Joe frowns. "We don't have any houses. Sorry."

"We have an apartment!" Pete pipes up unhelpfully. 

"Pete!" Joe throws him a glare. 

The demon smirks at Joe's reaction. "Alright. Here's the deal. Let me move into your apartment, and I'll leave this house alone so Waldo-"

"Wayne," Pete interrupts. 

The demon scowls. "So Will can have his nice house. That sound good?"

Pete grins. "Sure, that's-"

"Absolutely not a good idea!" Joe cuts him off, glaring. "We are _not_ just inviting a fucking demon into our home!"

"Why not?" The demon shrugs. "You've already got a ghost."

"I knew him before he died," Joe says defensively, crossing his arms. 

"Joe, maybe we should just agree," Pete says. "It seems like an okay deal."

"We can't!" Joe insists, searching his mind for any other reason. "We...don't even know his name!"

"I'm Patrick," the demon pipes up. "So, are we good or no?"

"Joe, come on. He seems nice," Pete tries. 

"He does _not_ ," Joe mutters under his breath, but he sighs and turns to Patrick. "Alright. You can move in with us if you leave this house and Wayne alone... _and_ agree to work with us."

Patrick raises an eyebrow. "You mean, work for your bullshit paranormal investigation agency, which is by the second becoming more 'paranormal' than 'investigation'?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean," Joe replies. 

Patrick appears to consider this. Then, he finally nods, looking thoughtful. "Alright. Fine."

"Really?" Joe is surprised. 

"Yeah, really. Now let's leave before I change my mind," Patrick answers, back to looking angry. Joe thinks it may be his default expression. 

"Okay," Joe says, dumbfounded. He then realizes they've just completed their first job - and it was as easy as agreeing to let a demon move in with them. How wonderful. 

"New roommate!" Pete cheers, looking nothing but excited about this. Joe loves him, really, but sometimes he just doesn't understand how the guy's mind works at all. 

"Yeah. Sure," Joe mutters. 

Patrick promptly turns and walks out through the door, leaving Joe and Pete no option but to follow. Pete, of course, leaves through the wall, showoffish as ever. 

Joe walks out the door and closes it after him. He makes a mental note to tell Wayne the problem's solved once they get home. He pauses at the door and stares at it, amazed. Wow. They'd really just finished a job. This had just been his childhood fantasy, and he can't believe it's finally real. 

"Hey, dumbass, are you going to stare lovingly at that door or are we leaving?"

Yeah, okay, so maybe not all of it is his childhood fantasy. But hey, it's close enough. 

Basically.

**Author's Note:**

> no I absolutely did NOT put Wayne Sermon into this. how dare you accuse me of such a thing. I don't even know what an imagine dragons is. smh. 
> 
> but anyway-
> 
> you can send me ideas/headcanons/prompts/whatever at my Tumblr - vicesandvelociraptors 
> 
> and comments are appreciated!! I love feedback!!
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
